Author's Note: It's been a while since I updated, I know! I'm sorry. Just wanted to mull this one over and make sure it all made sense in my head, before I posted it. Thank you to everyone who's still reading along - I'm hoping this isn't getting difficult to follow and dragging out longer than the end of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. :D I just have my little checklist of loose ends to put to bed.

"If one more person tells me I don't have to do this, I'll—" Jane bit her tongue, knowing she was taking out her frustration on the people who cared about her. Exasperating as it was, they only had her best interests at heart.

Reade lifted his hands in surrender, taking a step back. "Whoa. Sorry for breathing."

"I'm sorry," she said, sighing. "I know you're just worried about me."

Reade nodded, though she could tell he was only partially mollified. She'd have to stop by the coffee shop next time she passed, and grab him his favourite tea blend as an apology. Maybe doughnuts, too.

Pushing aside the guilt, she returned her attention to Nas. "So you managed to get me a meeting with who, exactly?"

Nas cleared her throat and resumed, "A few very important people. Sandstorm's sources were in practically every branch of government. From what I hear, they had to considerably restrict the number of attendees. A lot of people have an interest in what Shepherd could tell them—and, to be blunt, a lot of people want to find out how many of their secrets she knows."

"Tell me Jane doesn't have to go in there alone," Kurt said.

"That's the good news. Weller, you can go with her." Nas handed him a stack of papers, her movements uncharacteristically restless. "I've compiled basic dossiers on everyone who'll be attending. A Deputy Director of National Intelligence will be there. There'll be representatives from the National Counterterrorism and National Counterproliferation Centers. Someone from the Pentagon…"

"Just cut to the bad part, Nas," Kurt said, without even a glance down at the dossiers.

Nas gave a weak smile. "Is it that obvious?"

Jane nodded, wishing she didn't feel so queasy. Her intuition told her this was going to be worse than she'd hoped.

"There are a couple of names on the attendee list that everyone in this room will recognise."

"Don't keep us in suspense," Reade said.

"You all remember Daylight, and the various ways Mayfair, Carter and Varma used that illegal intel. According to Mayfair's notes, former Chief of Staff Frank Davenport was the one who gave them the authorisation to do that. He's now third in line for the Speaker of the House, and Congressman for New York's Seventeenth District. He'll be at the meeting, representing the interests of Congress."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jane noticed Kurt closing his eyes, shaking his head. But he said nothing, which worried her.

"Congress is getting involved, too?" Zapata snorted. "Figures. They've got more dirty little secrets than the rest of the government combined. Of course they're gonna want to know what dirt Shepherd managed to uncover."

Patterson fidgeted. "I don't like this. No offence, Jane, but politicians and executives are harder to pin down than terrorists. If you go in unprepared, you're gonna get eaten alive in there."

A little stung at her assessment, Jane set her jaw mulishly. "Maybe, but I have to try. Nas, who's the other person who'll be at the meeting?"

Nas flicked a helpless look Kurt's way. "I tried to argue against it, but they shot me down."

Jane's queasiness grew, though her brain tried to slam down a shutter against the confirmation of her worst fears. You knew this was coming. Just face it.

"It's Jake Keaton. I'm sorry, Jane."

For one horrible instant, panic tried to rise up to claim her. Even though it was logical for Keaton to be at the meeting, she'd convinced herself that she was wrong, that he wasn't high-ranking enough to be there.

Now she could no longer hide behind her denial. She had to face reality. Soon, she was going to have to walk into a viper's nest and hold her own—and she'd have to do it in front of the smirking, unrepentant man who still haunted her nightmares.

"No." Kurt was on his feet. "Jane, this is more than anyone should have to deal with."

Maybe they're right. Maybe I should just let this go, let the CIA have Shepherd.

Immediately, her mind recoiled. No. I couldn't live with myself. And Roman would never forgive me.

She took a deep, shaky breath, and felt herself disconnecting from the situation. Her initial panic was gone, replaced with the same detached numbness she'd felt in the first few hours after Shepherd's plan had failed.

None of the team, except maybe Kurt, really understood why she had to do this, despite the trauma and the risk. She wasn't sure whether they thought it was about idealism, or demanding reparations for how she'd suffered under Keaton's hands, or sentimentality about Shepherd being her mother—and they wouldn't be wrong to assume those things, not entirely.

But this was about being able to look at herself in the mirror, of proving to herself that she wasn't the kind of person who turned a blind eye to corruption. Maybe she wouldn't be able to stop the CIA from using black sites entirely, but in Shepherd's case, she had leverage. If she backed down because she was afraid, what kind of person would that make her? Her self-respect would slowly drain away, replaced by a downward spiral of shame. Roman's contempt would grow as he saw her becoming part of the broken system he'd been raised to hate, and eventually, he'd leave.

Kurt moved into her line of vision, startling her into registering the outside world again. Only when their eyes met did he reach for her hand, as though he knew she would have reacted violently, if he'd touched her before that moment.

She looked up at him, cultivating the flat, even numbness that suppressed her panic. "I know you want to protect me," she said, "but I need to do this, Kurt. No matter what."

His shoulders dropped in defeat. "I know. I just…" Sighing, he sat down again. "This whole thing feels like waving a red flag at a bull. But if this is what you need to do, I'm here for you," he told her quietly.

She pretended not to see the fear he was trying to hide. He's scared they'll take me back into custody, even though I've been given immunity. He's afraid he'll lose me.

I'm so sorry, Kurt.

She squeezed his hand in a silent I love you, and looked over at Nas, hoping she didn't look as anxious as she felt. "When's the meeting?"

Seven hours later…

As the FBI jet began to descend towards Washington, DC, a shudder of turbulence shook the plane. Jane gripped the dossier she was reading so tightly that the paper crinkled, but gave no other sign that she was anxious.

Kurt reached for her free hand, though he wasn't sure if he was offering as much reassurance as he was taking from the contact. He was rarely a nervous man—years of working for CIRG had conditioned him into simply switching his fears off while he dealt with the threats at hand—but this wasn't the kind of thing he could disarm like a bomb, or de-escalate like a hostage situation.

In an hour's time, he and Jane would be walking into the presence of some of the most powerful people in the country. He'd once told Jane that if the operation of black sites on American soil was ever made public knowledge, the repercussions would be enough to bring down administrations. And now they were about to meet with people appointed by the current administration—just a few steps down from the President of the United States.

Kurt had sworn to back Jane up at this meeting, but his gut told him to order the pilot to turn the plane around. If they hadn't personally been responsible for saving the lives of every person who'd be attending, he would never have let Jane get this far. Especially not since they'd found out Keaton would also be there.

"Kurt, you're hurting me," Jane said softly.

He forced his attention back to the present moment, releasing Jane's hand. He'd been gripping it as tightly as she'd been holding the dossier.

"Sorry," he told her, kicking himself. He was meant to be being strong for her, but—

"I can tell you're worrying. Relax." Jane gave him a smile that was almost genuine. "I can handle this."

"I know you can. I just…don't like this, Jane. We know too much that we were never meant to know, and that makes us dangerous. I'm not sure if they're gonna see us as heroes who saved the country, or enemies who need to be silenced."

"Either way, I can handle them." Jane picked up the USB drive from the table in front of them. "Patterson and Nas have us covered."

Kurt eyed the drive dubiously. "I'd feel a lot better if you'd just tell me what their plan is."

Jane shook her head, looking amused, despite the situation. "I know you love to be in control of every little detail in a mission, but we're protecting you by leaving you out of the loop. You'll understand, if I have to use this."

He let the subject drop, falling silent as Jane returned to reading the dossiers on the other meeting attendees. He was afraid that if he spoke, his worst fears would escape.

I should be the one protecting you, but I don't know if I have enough power to hold them off.

If they let Keaton take you again, I might never find you.

His trust in Nas had always been tinged with suspicion, but Patterson held his absolute faith. If Patterson thought that what was on the drive would keep Jane safe, then he had to go with it.

Just behind the concern for Jane lurked the knowledge that he was about to meet the man who'd set Mayfair on the path to ruin. Davenport had a lot to answer for, but Kurt knew that despite his position with the FBI, he could never make the bastard pay for any of it. He'd have to keep himself on a tight leash—with Davenport, and with Keaton.

He looked out of the window, his stomach lurching a little at the plane's descent. Just a couple of minutes more, and they'd be on the ground again.

As though she was thinking the same thing, Jane began gathering up the pages of the file. Once the paperwork was all tidied away, she slid a cool hand over his. "Give me a kiss for luck?"

He wasn't sure if she was trying to distract him, or herself, but he didn't care. Leaning over, he gave her a soft, lingering kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I need you to promise me something," he said, remembering her words on the balcony, the night before she'd gone back to the compound. She'd tried to make him promise he wouldn't blame himself if she died undercover. Hopefully, what he was about to ask of her was something a little more achievable.

Jane waited, frowning a little.

"Promise me that this meeting will be the end of it. That we can draw a line under Sandstorm and start looking forward."

Her gaze wavered uncertainly. "I don't know. We still have a lot of paperwork to do, and hopefully Shepherd will have a trial we have to testify at, and…"

"I know. And I know that healing from this case will take a long time, especially for you." He sighed. "What I mean is…if we can't stop Keaton from taking Shepherd, that's it. It stops there."

Please. Because this isn't a hornets' nest you can kick twice.

Something in his expression must have reached her on a deeper level, because she nodded, her eyes serious. "I promise."

A knot of anxiety untwisted in his gut, giving way to relief. "Thank you."

They still had to get through the meeting and fly back home, but if they could make it through the next few hours, he'd finally be able to stop worrying about this case. The rest would just be paperwork and decompression.

Jane was so tense that her shoulders hurt as they walked into the waiting area. The building was a nondescript office building in the Capitol Hill district, probably just a few blocks from where the ambulance full of nuclear material had been hidden. She'd assumed that the meeting would be in a much more lavish setting—these were high-ranking executives, after all—but their surroundings were similar to the offices on the first floor of the NYO.

Despite that familiarity, Jane couldn't relax. Everything rode on her being able to keep her composure at this meeting.

Is Keaton already in the conference room? Or is he going to walk in here to wait, just like we are?

She glanced over at Kurt, who was making a far better job of wearing a formal business suit than she was. He hated ties, and she knew he'd be ripping his off and popping the top button of his shirt open as soon as they were alone. Even so, he showed no sign of discomfort.

She returned Kurt's questioning look with a quick smile of reassurance, and looked down at her hands, bunched in her lap. She'd probably seem unprofessional to these executives no matter what she wore, since her hand and neck tattoos were clearly visible. She'd considered covering them with make-up, but decided against it—these people already knew she was tattooed from head to toe, had probably read every detail and seen every picture in her casefile.

Kurt's phone vibrated, startling her. He glanced at it, and scowled. "Keaton's about to walk in. Are you ready?"

"He gave you a heads-up?" It seemed too considerate to be something Keaton would do.

Kurt nodded. "I didn't want him coming out of nowhere again."

Despite her fear, her chest warmed at the gesture. "Thank you."

He took her hand and squeezed it. "If you need some space from him, just say the word."

She squeezed back, then pulled away. The last thing she needed was for Keaton to see her clinging to Kurt, as though she couldn't stand on her own two feet.

A couple of minutes later, Keaton rounded the corner, dressed as formally as she and Kurt were. Something about that was reassuring. Keaton far outranked her, but he didn't outrank Kurt, and they all had to abide by the decisions of the people they were about to meet. Not to mention that in all her worst memories of her torture, and in her nightmares, Keaton was merely 'Jake', the casually clothed asshole with the smug expression and two goons at his back. This version of Keaton was much less terrifying.

She was afraid—but she was in control of her fear.

"Weller. Jane." He slowed as he approached, seeming mindful of her PTSD, for once.

"Keaton." Kurt nodded curtly.

Jane resisted the urge to bare her teeth in a humourless smile, staying coolly professional. "Jake."

Was it her imagination, or did he flinch at her overfamiliarity?

"Good work last week," he said, sitting down a few seats from Kurt. The chair scraped against the one next to it, the metallic sound making Jane jump.

It's a chair, not a chain. Keep breathing. She clenched her fists so he wouldn't see her hands trembling.

Neither she nor Kurt acknowledged his comment, and Keaton sighed. "Look, Jane. This is a really bad idea. You saved my family's lives when you stopped Shepherd, and that means I've got no quarrel left with you. But these people? They're my superiors, and if they tell me to make you disappear, I won't have a choice. If I were you, I'd just get up and go back to my life. Let sleeping dogs lie."

"You'll have the same choice you always had. Your conscience, or your job." She could practically feel the hostility radiating from Kurt, and she resisted the urge to reach out and calm him.

"Thank you for your concern," she said. "I'll be fine."

Keaton shook his head, looking genuinely regretful. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

For a few seconds, they sat in tense silence, but then the door to the conference room opened, and a secretary stepped out. "Agents Weller and Keaton? Ms. Dover? They're ready for you now."

Hearing someone refer to her as 'Ms. Dover'—the new identity she'd wanted all along—felt strange. On one hand, it was a relief to be reminded that she now had the immunity deal she'd been working for all this time. But on the other, the situation was so tense that she took no joy from the validation.

She shot Kurt a quick glance as they all rose from their seats, ready to file into the room. He didn't speak, but his expression was reassuring, and she could imagine his words. I've got your back. Let's do this.

Ignoring Keaton, she steeled her spine and walked into the lions' den.

Author's Note: Jane has thought of Keaton as a monster for so long, I wanted her to be able to face him again on her own terms, as a free woman with no missions hanging over her head. Hopefully that will come through in the next chapter as well. Any thoughts on this chapter, or on how you think the meeting will go, are very welcome! :)